


The Hat

by Ellessey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Cold Weather, Dumb Hats, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8718505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellessey/pseuds/Ellessey
Summary: 'Noya knocks on Asahi's door, bouncing on the balls of his feet because it’s winter, and it's Saturday, and Asahi is going to be in front of him any second now.The door opens and there he is. His big, beautiful boyfriend. Tall and sweet and smiling, and.....what...what the hell is that on his head?'--A small winter tale involving one dorky hat, and two boys kissing in the snow.





	

Noya loves winter. He loves the bite in the air and the crunch of snow beneath his boots. (Beneath his whole body, actually, because he can never resist throwing himself into a good snowbank.)

He loves that this winter Asahi is his boyfriend and not just his friend, and when they walk home from school their hands are clasped together, and Noya never slips because Asahi always has him.

He loves how rosy Asahi's cheeks get and he loves that today it's so, so cold that he has every excuse to press himself as close to Asahi as he possibly can. (He really loves that he doesn't actually _need_ an excuse for that anymore.)

Today they're going to walk into town together, and spend their Saturday morning getting Christmas shopping done before they go to practice. If Noya can help it this will mostly involve a lot of hot chocolate with whipped cream, and warm kisses in the cold air.

He knocks on Asahi's door, bouncing on the balls of his feet because it’s _winter,_ and it's _Saturday,_ and Asahi is going to be in front of him any second now.

The door opens and there he is. His big, beautiful boyfriend. Tall and sweet and smiling, and.....what...what the _hell_ is that on his head?

“Oh my God.”

“It's sure cold, isn't it?” Asahi says, incorrectly assuming Noya is talking about anything other than the monstrosity currently obscuring most of his hair (which in and of itself is a crime that should be punishable by death).

“What. Is that.”

“What?” Asahi asks, stepping outside and closing the door behind himself.

 _"T_ _hat,”_ Noya says, gesturing upwards.

“It's...my hat?” Asahi says, looking a touch bewildered. (He often looks a touch bewildered. It used to drive Noya crazy last year, when he was a first year and Asahi was a second year, and Noya just wanted to jump on him and kiss him every time he blinked those big, brown eyes in gentle confusion.)

“ _Why_ is that your hat?” Noya asks.

“It's...it's always been?”

“It has not. I've never seen this hat before.”

“I wear this hat every year, Noya.”

“You don't!”

“I do!”

Noya refuses to believe this. He stops short and tugs at Asahi's shoulder until the taller boy is facing him, then looks at him. Hard.

“What are you...doing?” Asahi asks, squirming a little. (Noya really likes making Asahi squirm, it's one of his favorite activities. Particularly when they meet up in the hallway at school and he stretches up on his toes to whisper a few choice words, before sending a blushing Asahi off to think about him all through his next class.)

Right now, Noya is observing and thinking intensely. _How_ could he forget a hat like this? It's thick and woolen, peruvian style with the ear flaps and dangling ties, a red yarn pompom on the top, and...

“Are those...gingerbread men?”

“I...I think so, yes,” Asahi says.

There’s a whole ring of them, with fat little linked hands, knitted around the entire hat. “Asahi this isn't a hat, this is a sweet old granny’s Christmas apron.”

“I swear I wore this hat last winter,” Asahi says, with that quiet, insistent voice he uses when he’s certain that he’s right, but also really doesn’t want to offend anyone with his rightness. “You thought it was cute.”

Noya blinks and tries to remember this. It has started to snow. Large, loose flakes settling on Asahi's shoulders, and the tip of his nose, and his hat...that _hat._

“Maybe...” Noya says, “I was so blinded by my crush on you that I thought it was cute by extension? That's gotta be it, huh?”

“Do you...not have a crush on me anymore?” Asahi asks, looking like he's trying very hard to find this notion unimportant.

“No, you giant gingerbread man. Now you're my boyfriend and I have a relationship with you.”

“But I'm less cute.”

Noya grins and Asahi does that sheepish blushing/smiling thing that is so fucking cute Noya thinks maybe he does still have a crush on him after all, even though he also has so much more.

“You are _not_ less cute. But Asahi, come on...that is the dumbest hat I've ever seen,” Noya says.

Asahi may have a glass heart, but Noya believes in honesty, and Asahi has always seemed to appreciate it. (And God knows they'd never have gotten together if Noya hadn't been willing to throw all his true feelings for Asahi out there over a table piled high with meat buns last June, with their teammates all around them.)

“It’s a little silly, I guess,” Asahi admits. “But it's really warm.”

“It’s a winter hat, Asahi. Every hat made to be worn in winter is warm.”

“And _soft,”_ Asahi says.

“It's an atrocity.”

Asahi shrugs. “It’s really soft. And it didn't offend you last winter, so I think you’ll survive it this year.”

“Oh ho ho!” Noya says. “Stubborn Asahi has surfaced!”

(Stubborn Asahi is possibly the cutest thing Noya has ever witnessed, _will ever_ witness, in his entire life. It’s something like a very adorable, wooly lamb, refusing to budge from a happy little flower patch.)

“It _is_ just a hat,” Asahi says, wrapping an arm around Noya’s shoulders and pulling him gently so he’ll start walking again.

Noya laughs, walking just slow enough that Asahi has to keep propelling him forward. “That is _not_ just a hat.”

“Maybe you'll grow to like it.”

“Maybe,” Noya says, slipping his arm around Asahi’s waist so they can be even closer together while they walk. “Maaaybe....if I associated it with something really good...”

“It's...my hat,” Asahi says carefully. “Do you not associate it with me?”

“Yeah, but Asahi...that’s like a hat and a half, I need something a little more...” Noya lets his hand slide down the side of Asahi’s hip, then slips it under the bottom of his long jacket to cup his ass through his jeans.

“Noya!”

“Tangible,” Noya says.

“Not here,” Asahi says, leaning away from Noya until he drops his hand, and then taking it in his own to keep him from trying that again.

“Don’t you want me to find a way to like your hat? I’m just trying to be helpful,” Noya says.

Asahi flushes and watches his boots while they walk. “I still don’t see how you went all last winter not hating this hat, if you hate it so much now.”

“I don’t _hate_ it,” Noya says. “It’s just so big, and dorky, and fluffy, and—”

“Okay,” Asahi says. “Yes, but Noya...here.”

Asahi pulls Noya with him, off the sidewalk and along a path leading towards a neighborhood playground. He looks around, tugs Noya into a little copse of trees, and then looks down at him.

“I can make you love this hat,” he says.

“Oh my God,” Noya says. “Are we gonna fuck right here?”

Asahi’s entire face goes as red as the pompom on top of his hat. Noya is already feeling more warmly towards it, gingerbread men and all.

(For the record, Asahi and Noya have not had sex yet. Are nowhere close to it, actually. Asahi is certain that both of them will end up in jail if they bone before Noya has turned eighteen, so Noya has quite a wait ahead of him still. Which is fine, because there are a lot of other things they can do, and it’s certainly no reason not to throw references to fucking out there as often as possible to see what it does to Asahi.)

“ _No. Noya._ You can’t just _say_ that!”

Noya beams up at Asahi and does not take it back. “So how are you going to make me love it then?”

Asahi is still blushing furiously, but he reaches for Noya, pulling his simple, black beanie off his head and tucking it into the pocket of his own jacket. Then he takes off The Hat, and lowers it over Noya’s head.

It's far too big, Noya can just barely see out from under the fuzzy inner lining. The ear flaps hang down past his chin, the pompom is making the entire thing tilt and sit off center on his head, and it is the softest, most amazing fucking thing he has ever felt. It’s angel wings and downy ducklings and gauzy clouds, and it is giving his head the warmest, most gentle hug that has ever been bestowed upon anyone. Ever.

“What—”

Noya was about to ask what the fuck this hat is even made of, but this must have only been Part One of Asahi’s grand plan to change Noya’s mind, because now his gloved hands are settling on Noya’s shoulders and he’s leaning down, breath puffing out in a little white cloud, before he presses a sweet, cold, bunny soft kiss to Noya’s lips.

The hat slips a little further down, covering Noya’s eyes, but it doesn’t matter. He hooks his fingers into Asahi's jacket pockets and tilts his chin up a little higher, letting Asahi kiss him again. Chapped lips parting slightly so Noya can feel the heat of Asahi's mouth. The perfect balance to the snowflakes falling on his upturned face.

Asahi leans back and adjusts the hat so Noya can see again, mostly. “Did that help at all?” he asks.

Noya _could_ tell him he was sold as soon as the hat touched his head, but Noya is no fool.

“Hmm...” he says, feigning deliberation. “Some.”

Asahi smiles and cups Noya’s face in his hands. Soft wool against Noya’s cheeks, damp from the snow. He kisses the tip of his frozen nose and then brings their lips together again. Noya imagines the snow beneath their boots melting away. He doesn't know how it could not be, with how warm he feels from his head to his toes (and in almost alarming concentration somewhere around his heart).

“Now?” Asahi asks.

Noya lodges his hands a little deeper in Asahi's pockets and pulls him closer. “More positive associations, please. I think we're close.”

“But isn't it _soft?”_ Asahi asks. “I really think—”

Noya hushes Asahi and stretches up to kiss him again. To slip his tongue between his lips and taste that fruity toothpaste he uses because he says the minty pastes burn too much. To feel the soft give of his tongue, and fit their lips together with Asahi’s full lower lip pressed between his own.  

Asahi hums and steps back, pulling Noya with him, not letting their lips part, until his back is against a tree and he’s slouching low against it, holding Noya tight to his chest. His hands slide down Noya’s back, and the hat has slipped again, but Noya doesn’t need to see Asahi to know how he looks right now. A heavy flush in his cheeks, dark eyes peeking out from under a fringe of darker lashes every so often, just to watch Noya.

He kisses him so tenderly, thoughtfully, like Noya’s lips are the only thing that matter in the world. Sometimes Noya can get Asahi worked up enough that his kisses become rougher and hungrier, but this is what Asahi does naturally, and Noya loves it. He’s loved it since the very first time they kissed, when he realized that Asahi was just as crazy about him as he was about Asahi, he just said it in a different way. He’s kept saying it since then, and he’s saying it now, with firm touches of his hands, and sweet, slow kisses that gradually get deeper, more open, until Noya is unbelievably warm, and gasping in Asahi’s arms.

“Now?” Asahi asks again.

Noya blinks in the darkness, blinks again in the blinding light of the morning sun reflecting off the snow when Asahi tips the hat farther back on his head.

“Huh?” Noya asks, trying to catch his breath.

“The hat,” Asahi says. “Do you...did this help, with the—”

“I love you,” Noya says.

God, this alone, the color of Asahi’s cheeks rising to meet the hue of the yarn woven through his hat and adorning the top of it, is enough for Noya.

“ _Noya...”_ Asahi says, looking down. His hair is growing damp with all the snow that fell on it while they were kissing, and Noya almost says it again, because just looking at Asahi and how goddamn beautiful he is makes him feel like he’s overflowing.

“Yes, Asahi-san?” he says.

Asahi shifts his feet around a little, kicking up snow, then he looks at Noya again, just for a second, before he reaches up, takes hold of the braided ties on the hat and tugs it right down so Noya’s eyes are covered completely. A moment later Noya is being wrapped up in a tight hug and Asahi’s chin is resting on top of his head. (His head is now receiving a double hug. Noya is almost euphoric.)

“I love you, too,” Asahi says,

He has yet to say this while actually meeting Noya’s eyes, but Noya really doesn’t care. Asahi’s holding him, and he loves him, and he’s never kissed him as much as he just did outside of one of their bedrooms before, and this stupid hat is making it very, very hard for Noya not to like it.

“Alright,” he says, when Asahi has released him, and adjusted the hat on his head once again. “It’s not so bad.”

“Isn’t it soft?” Asahi says.

“It’s really fucking soft. What is this lining?”

“I don’t know...can I have it back now though?”

Noya grins and takes a step back. “What’s that?”

“My hat,” Asahi says. “It’s getting cold and...Noya...Noya!”

Noya has taken off, skidding through the snow and almost slipping before he’s gotten more than five feet away from Asahi.

Asahi catches up with him, gets his arms around him from behind and lifts him off his feet. “Thief,” he says.

“It’s _so warm!”_ Noya says.

“It’s a winter hat, Nishinoya,” Asahi says, setting Noya carefully back on the ground and then lifting the hat off his head. “Every hat made to be worn in winter is warm.”

Noya turns around to watch Asahi putting his hat back on, then pulling the beanie from his pocket and carefully sliding it into place on Noya’s head. It’s like moving from a plush mattress to a thin mat on the floor.

“You’ve won this one, Asahi,” he says.

“Would you like me to get you a dorky hat for Christmas?” Asahi asks.

“Are there slightly less dorky versions? Like maybe without the gingerbread men?”

“I’ll see what I can find,” Asahi says.

“Oh! Like with volleyballs! Do you think they make them with volleyballs?”

Asahi laughs and wraps his arm around Noya, guiding him back to the sidewalk and towing him along, just like before their little detour.

“Or skulls! An alternating skull/volleyball pattern so it’s, like, kind of dorky, but also badass!”

“I might have to learn how to knit,” Asahi says.

Noya grins up at him and squeezes his arm tight around his waist, holding him close all the way into town.

(They may pop into a craft store once they get there.)

(They may leave with almost more yarn than they can carry.)

(With the help of Asahi’s grandmother, the entire Karasuno team may be sporting dorky hats with bright orange pompoms when they return to school for the new year.)

(And it may be that, even when Noya has his own badass skull/volleyball hat with a fleecy white lining that feels like a bunny’s tail, Asahi’s stupid gingerbread man hat is still his very favorite.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [here](http://ellessey-writes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!


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